


The Station - USUK Summer Festival 2016

by harin91



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, New Planets, Space Pirates, Space Stations, USUK Summer Festival 2016, space travels, very small appearances of other Nations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harin91/pseuds/harin91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Arthur and Alfred stuck on a different planet"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Station - USUK Summer Festival 2016

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarah-akhavan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sarah-akhavan).



> It's my first time participating to a fic exchange for this fandom and I'm very excited!  
> At first I thought about drawing a fanart on another prompt (we all received three), but then I couldn't finish in time, so I opted for this quick and (I hope!) funny one-shot.  
> My love for steampunk, 'The Terminal' movie and 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' is strong in this one XD
> 
> I hope I didn't make too many mistakes and respected what my receiver desired to read.  
> Please be careful: this work is **not beta-ed** and English is not my first language.  
>  Enjoy!

“This is unbelievable!” exclaimed someone from the crowd of passengers, a signal for many other voices to start expressing their discontent with low grumblings and angry stares.

“I have an important meeting on Mars in less than three hours! Find me another ship to board, immediately!” continued the altered voice, belonging to a short, blonde businessman in black suit and tie.

The hostess behind the desk he was slamming his hand on apologised again and just repeated: “There are no ships available at the moment, sir. The planet is being momentarily isolated for a security check.”

Then she took a small black device from the desk and spoke into it, her voice resonating inside the departure’s room: “Ship 1081 to Neo London will be subjected to a four hours delay. Currently the whole station is closed to let authorities operate inside it in complete security. We ask all passengers to wait patiently for the gates to be reopened. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

Everyone sighed and grumbled some more, but soon the crowd around the desk scattered and the hostess was left alone, waiting for further instructions.

The businessman sat heavily on one of the seats inside the waiting area and desperately held his head between his hands, curled on himself to gather his thoughts.

“You alright, dude?” asked someone to his left and he lifted his head and turned around to look at the guy who spoke: a young man in white t-shirt, jeans and worn leather boots. Beside his legs there was a big rucksack full to the brim and on the seat separating him from the businessman there was a folded bomber jacket with black fur on the collar.

He sat rather leisurely, splayed on the small chair of the departure’s room, drinking deliberately slow sips from a thermos.

“How can I be alright?” he asked back, bitterly. He sighed again, looking away from the other man, toward the windows of the space station over the expanse of the Universe surrounding the small planet they were currently on: “I might get fired if I arrive late at work because of this…” he murmured.

“They can’t fire you, it’s not your fault.” said calmly the man: “Who knew pirates would assault ol’ Speranza planet, right?” he smiled, amused.

Voices between the passengers had spoken about a pirate attack on the small planet they were on, which had caused the interstellar police to intervene. They had blocked the port and started a search for suspected ships in the area.

“Must be a big and unfamous crew if they’re panicking this much…” commented the man, looking at the police ships parked outside the window, blue lights flashing and reflecting on the glass panels of the station.

Speranza was a junction planet, a small and inhabited desertic sphere used by all kind of passengers and wares ships as a safe stop between long space crossings. A pirates attack on the planet was considered highly improbable, especially because controls were frequents on junction ports and pirates tended to avoid civilian ports for that reason.

“I doubt this is about pirates…” sighed again the businessman: “Pirates have boundaries. Attacking a small and unarmed port like this is off-limits.” he added.

The other nodded half-heartedly, then he extended one hand and introduced himself: “Alfred F. Jones.” with a wink. The businessman shook his hand: “Arthur Kirkland.”

Alfred was tall and young. He had striking blue eyes and golden blond hair, sunkissed skin and broad, muscular shoulders and chest. Arthur was instead short and slim, with big green eyes and peculiarly huge eyebrows. His skin was very pale and his fair blond hair were messy and soft looking.

“You’re from Neo London, right? Can’t go wrong with that accent.” smirked Alfred.

“What about you, Yankee?” provoked Arthur: “Let me guess, Jupiter? Austin 12?” he asked.

“Oh, no… I’m from Earth. Born in Virginia before the Third Expedition Race… my family owns a repair garage.” explained Alfred: “We’re good with tools and motors.” he grinned.

“Then why are you here?” asked the businessman.

“I’m a traveler now.” said Alfred, gesturing toward his backpack and worn clothes.

“You mean an hitchhiker?” noticed Arthur: “I should have guessed from the towel.” he joked, pointing with a nod of his head to the white and blue cloth around the other’s neck.

Alfred laughed, loudly and whole-heartedly. The sudden noise surprised some of the other passengers in the waiting area, who briefly looked curiously at the odd pair of men.

“What about you? What’s your business?” asked Alfred, regaining a calmer tone of voice.

“I’m just a very boring broker traveling from a meeting to another…” said Arthur without giving much importance to the information.

“And what about this?” asked amusedly the hitchhiker, softly touching Arthur’s pierced earlobe, lacking its earring. The man jumped in surprise and immediately covered his ear with his hand, embarrassed: “Let’s not talk about this!” he exclaimed.

“Why?” laughed Alfred.

“Juvenile mistakes and punk phases are hard to explain…” admitted shyly Arthur, making the other man laugh loudly once again.

 

 

The evening passed and night came. The station soon fell into a resigned state of calmness. The most nervous ones kept talking in distant and whispered voices, the others just distracted themselves reading books and newspapers, checking their phones, trying to catch some sleep. The police ships outside the windows were still patrolling the station and planet, but inside their gate there were only staff and crew of their unmoved passenger ships.

Alfred and Arthur kept on talking, sharing bit of informations and stories about themselves to one another, while trying to patiently wait for their space flight.

Alfred told the businessman about his travels around the solar system and beyond: he used to have a small ship and travel with his twin brother, but when the other had found love and decided to settle down in Neo Calgary on Neptune with his spouse, he had continued his journey alone and, when it was stolen, even without his ship.

“Stolen? Don’t tell me…” started Arthur.

“Yeah, pirates. See? Some of them don’t have codes or boundaries. They’re just the worst…” said with resentment the traveler, adding: “They’re always causing troubles, like today.”

Arthur looked at him with an apologetic smile: “I understand.”

“I mean… it feels like all my problems are their fault. Even my dad’s most precious ship was stolen by one of them.” said bitterly the American: “He was so proud of the Flying Mint Bunny…”

“Your… father is the Flying Mint’s builder?” asked incredulous Arthur: “You’re  _ that _ Jones!?”

“Why? Do you know something about my father’s ship?” asked Alfred, confused.

“I’ve just read about it at the time… I’m sorry that happened, that ship must have costed so much work and dedication to build.” said the businessman, offering a pat on the shoulder to Alfred, who just nodded.

 

 

They kept on talking and, when they felt the need to stretch and move, they took their belongings with them and started walking around the now completely closed and sleeping station, looking for coffee (and tea) or just a more isolated zone to get some rest.

They stopped near a window in the South Wing of the port, overlooking the pink sand dunes of Speranza’s desertic surface and dark green night sky. The light of the two moons of Speranza shone from outside, illuminating them. Arthur’s eyes turned their attention from outside back to Alfred’s face and the American first thought was that the men was really beautiful in that moment. The second thought was that Arthur was, in fact, very handsome in every moment. The third thought was that he had to say something before he embarrassed himself by staring too much.

“Do you think the police will stay much longer?” he asked, looking quickly back outside.

“I don’t really care, I’ve completely lost my meeting by now.” mumbled Arthur. He then pointed toward three small black jets neatly parked behind a huge cruise ship and asked: “You’re an expert, right? What are those?”

Alfred looked at them briefly, then said: “Scout jets. The interstellar secret service use them for operations sometimes… they’re fast and quiet.”

“How much fast?” asked again Arthur, curiously.

Alfred pointed to one of the police’s ships: “Double that thing’s speed.”

Arthur blinked and suddenly smiled brightly, looking back at the traveler: “Perfect, then!” he exclaimed, surprising the other.

“Would you like to come with me?” he asked, grinning with mischief.

Alfred’s breath hitched at the sight and he really couldn’t rationally control his reply, even without completely realising what he was getting into.

 

 

It just took them ten minutes to elude the staff and police’s security block, pick the locks of two doors and sneak outside. They cautiously run to one of the small jets and luckily found it open and empty.

“Why are we doing this?” asked Alfred as soon as the jet’s hatch was closed and they were alone in the cockpit, Arthur already sat on the pilot’s seat pressing buttons to make the ship move and quickly fly away: “This is very much illegal.” he noted.

“Yes.” was Arthur’s only reply: “Would you mind coming here and help, dear?” he asked.

The jet turned on with a rumble and jerked forward suddenly, causing Alfred to lose his balance and fall against the second pilot’s chair.

“We don’t have much time…” considered Arthur, already hearing the interstellar’s police sirens in the distance.

“Did we really need this?” asked again the younger passenger, looking outside the cockpit’s window to locate the police coming toward them. He then sat down and activated his own position, swiftly and completely used to the procedure.

The jet moved again, responding to Arthur’s commands urging it to fastly reach the runway.

Alfred asked “Why?” again, repeating it like a mantra when the police’s ships came closer and Arthur had to slalom through them to gain more speed and try to soar away.

“C’mon! Jump!” exclaimed Arthur, pulling the wheel toward himself with all his strength. The jet bumped and squeaked loudly but succeeded in lifting up and fly away before the police’s ships could turn around and open fire on them.

In less than five more minutes of swift manoeuvres over Speranza’s sky to get rid of their chasers, they reached the faster speed and left the planet’s sky.

 

 

“ _ How _ !?” changed his distraught question Alfred, as soon as they were alone once again, cruising toward Neo London (as the onboard computer said) without being chased or noticed.

“More easily than I thought, apparently” replied Arthur, his hands behind his head and legs crossed above the control panel, looking perfectly relaxed.

Alfred looked at him with even more disbelief: “How can you pilot that well!?”

Arthur shrugged: “I’ve learnt.”

“That’s… you can’t learn  _ that _ ! They don’t teach  _ that _ to civilians!” protested the American.

Arthur just smiled back at him, amused by the other’s reaction.

Silence fell between them and Alfred had to get up and walk around, pacing inside the small control area, lost in his thoughts and mumbling to himself.

“This can’t be the first time you broke the law, lad.” said even more amusedly the businessman, looking back at the panicking traveler: “Hitchhikers are against the interstellar law system, you know?”

“I’m… not an outlaw! I’m a traveler, an honest worker and taxpayer! I’m a hero!” cried the American, outraged and terrified. Then he pointed his finger toward the other, accusingly: “ _ You _ ’re the one who stole this jet and brought us to this situation!”

“Ok, fine. I’m the bad guy.” admitted calmly Arthur: “Most pirates are in your book, apparently.”

Alfred looked at him in shock: “ _ Pirates _ !?” he asked.

Arthur grinned even more and winked, extending his hand toward the freaking out American: “Nice to meet you. I’m Captain Arthur Kirkland, also known as the Green Lion.”

“You…” Alfred’s eyes reached a comical size, glued to Arthur’s face, shoving all kind of emotions storming over the younger’s features: “Green Lion!?”

Arthur’s laughter was interrupted by the sound of a beeping machine. He turned around to look at the computer and announced: “You were right, this thing is very fast! We’re already near my ship’s location! Look.” he exclaimed, pointing out of the window toward an object coming nearer and nearer.

“That is… the Flying Mint Bunny…” murmured Alfred, by now beyond shocked for the overload of bad news and informations received.

The jet’s communication system crackled and buzzed, followed by a cheerful accented voice asking: “Who is it?” and a similar but angrier voice exclaiming: “Feli, you retard! That’s not a phone!” followed by the first voice saying: “ _ Scusa, fratellone _ ! Ehm… please state your name and purpose.”

“It’s Captain Kirkland speaking.” said Arthur and suddenly the voices on the other side of the receiver grew in number and intensity, all screaming his name.

“Captain, you’re back!” cheered the first voice, relieved: “Approaching and landing permission granted.” said a third voice, with yet another accent.

Alfred listened to the whole exchange in mute disbelief.

 

 

He kept silent even through the whole operation of transfer from the jet to the Flying Mint, where Arthur was received and acclaimed as an heroic captain by a very diverse and colorful crew of pirates. He resisted the urge of screaming, kicking and punching with all his strength and anger when he was assigned a bed in the dormitories and a late dinner in the gallery of the ship his father had built and had had stolen from him.

He only let out all of his frustration when he saw Captain Kirkland reappear between his men dressed in his famous leather and green velvet attire, with high black boots, skin-tight trousers, a vest over a black shirt and a large hat decorated with soft feathers, pearls and golden coins. On his earlobe a long pendant made of emeralds shone brightly.

“ _ You _ !!! How  _ dare _ you!?” he cried, standing up from his spot at the dining table and pointing accusingly to the pirate, who just grinned at him like he had expected that outburst: “You’re the man who stole from my family! You knew it and still you kidnapped me and brought me here! What do you want from me, uh? Was it you the police was searching for? Of course! I should have guessed! What’s your business!?” he quickly spat out, making the ship’s crew laugh and Arthur look both surprised and amused.

The captain sat at the gallery’s table, in front of the American and asked him to sit back down, calmly: “Let’s make it all very clear. First of all, yes they were looking for me because somehow they knew I’ve been away alone for a while, on a mission. No, I didn’t kidnap you: if you remember, you said ‘yes’ when I asked if you wanted to come. And yes, I  _ technically _ stole from your father, but I loved this ship as soon as I saw it and couldn’t let her stay unused forever or worse, get in the hands of the ‘good people’” he explained.

Alfred considered it, then said: “You still stole it, this ship should be mine.”

Arthur nodded and said: “That’s why I have a proposition for you.”

The rest of the crew started murmuring, curious and obviously unaware of the content of the proposition.

Arthur leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and making the coins on his hat clink in the sudden silence.

“You stay with us and become the repairman on mine…  _ our _ ship. You’re good with tools and motors, are you not?” he smiled.

“ _ What _ !?” asked in unison Alfred and two or three members of the crew.

“This way you can keep an eye on your father’s possession while I… borrow it and you can keep traveling with us,” explained the captain, his vibrant green eyes never leaving Alfred’s blue ones: “And hopefully I’ll eventually demonstrate to you how pirates are not that bad after all.”

Then he stood up and extended once again his hand toward the American, waiting for the deal to be sealed: “What do you say, Alfred F. Jones?”

The crew murmured again, then stopped at the slightest signal from their captain.

Alfred took his time, looking intensely back at the pirate, a concentrated look on his features.

“I accept.” he said then, suddenly, almost surprising himself.

The crew seemed to cheer as the two shook hands, Arthur just smiled a slyer smile.

“Well then, gents. I believe we have just acquired a new master carpenter,” he announced, placing a hand on the table: “Let’s celebrate!” he exclaimed.

In a flash everyone was on their feet, bustling around with party preparations: bottles of alcoholics appeared and the people inside the small room seemed to suddenly multiply.

Amid that chaos, Alfred found himself still anchored to Arthur’s intense stare.

The captain took advantage of this, coming closer to the American’s face and whispering quietly to his ear: “And another thing, in exchange for this favour…” he chuckled, causing shivers down Alfred’s spine.

“I might want to share my bed with you, sometime.” he murmured, backing slightly to look again into the other’s eyes.

Alfred’s first thought was as unintelligible as the second and the third, but they somehow all involved statements about Arthur’s sexiness and questions about what the hell he had got himself into. For the second time that day.


End file.
